


Unexpected Outcomes

by Bounteous



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Holy shite there are so many things i could tag this, Jacob Frye being rough af, Reader-Insert, Rough Sex, Smut, god do i love me some anger sex, heated arguments, slash makeup sex, this went from 0 to 100 real quick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 19:46:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11812941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bounteous/pseuds/Bounteous
Summary: Everybody but you and Jacob could see how this argument would end.





	Unexpected Outcomes

"Dammit!" You shouted, a clenched fist coming up to strike the train car's wall.  
The shock of the impact barely registered in your mind as pain as you were too furious to care or even realize. Or both. However, the sound reverberated throughout the room and Jacob's ears as he stepped inside with just as much agitation.  
He frowned at your form; hunched over, fist still in position and your other palm resting flat beside it for support as well as some sort of physical reminder that you really should calm down. But how could you?  
The idiot had compromised the entire mission because of one simple mishap, and now the Templar (who was supposed to have been assassinated that night) had escaped, was most likely running around to all his little Templar friends and informing them that the Order was on to them. Damn him.  
And damn Jacob, too.  
Your name left his lips in a plea; tired of arguing, but also falling on deaf ears. Shutting your eyes, your brows furrowed in anger while another outburst began to brew deep within you. He'd berated you enough, you decided, tonight and in the past. And now it was time for you to return the favor.  
He took his top hat off, throwing it carelessly across the floor and ran a shaky hand through his disheveled hair. Oh, he knew he'd pissed you off indefinitely this time. In fact, he couldn't recall a time in his mind when you were this cross with him. Usually, it was a mild annoyance and he could just do something ridiculous to make you laugh and forget about his antics. Sometimes, it was legitimate anger and he'd have to half-ass an apology then promise to buy you an ‘I'm sorry' pint down at the pub. But, this time, he wasn't even sure a sincere apology could calm you down.  
Regardless, he was about to attempt as the words were barely on the tip of his tongue before you had turned around, fury in your eyes, and exploded.  
"Do you think of me incapable, Frye?!" You yelled, not giving a rat's ass if the whole of London could hear you.  
The question had stunned him, no doubt, as he blinked, whatever words about to come out of his mouth lost to the procession of your own. Slowly, his entire face morphed into one of confusion and shock as if you'd just asked him the most ridiculous question possible.  
Finally finding his voice, he spoke softly yet firmly, "Of course not."  
He couldn't believe you'd even think to ask such an outlandish thing. You were, without a doubt, the single most capable person he knew. Besides Evie, but one could argue you both went hand-in-hand as you worked expertly together as a team.  
"Then why the hell would you leave mid-kill?! Because I was a minute late? Because you suddenly regretted leaving me on my own? Because you suddenly realized I couldn't possibly handle myself?" Your hands were thrown up in exasperation, the last sentence shouted with as much sarcasm and cynicism as you could muster.  
Jacob had saved you countless times, completely disregarding whether you legitimately needed the help or not. Over the years you had come to know him he had increasingly become more and more overprotective. He had even once thrown himself off a roof for you, and in a way, you had found that endearing. But not this. Not something that could have possibly cost the lives of the entirety of London. No, he'd gone too far this time.  
"The man was forcing himself between your legs!" He spoke, each word rising an octave and thickening with indignation as you were obviously admonishing him for practically saving you from being taken without consent.  
His resolve was slipping, he could feel it. Why couldn't you just understand?  
"Wasn't my job supposed to make him think as such?" You shot back offense, "I couldn't believe you'd make me do something as belittling as that, but to have you rescue me as some fucking damsel in distress during as if it was your plan all along is utterly humiliating! You made it seem as if I can't even land a punch on my own, let alone handle one man's advances!"  
"Excuse me for being concerned over you about to be raped!" He took a step closer, hands thrown up in a casual shrug as if your point hadn't mattered in the least.  
"I had it handled!" You took a step closer, as well, your hands raked through your hair on either side and ready to yank the locks out.  
"It hardly looked handled." A step.  
"Obviously you weren't willing to give me time to do so." Another step.  
"Yes, and had I waited a minute more he would've had your skirt hiked up to your waist."  
By now, you were nose to nose, breaths mingling together in the heated argument and faces mere inches from one another. However, it was broken as your eyes widened in astonishment and your head turned to allow another shout to a bigger expanse of space where it would surely be heard throughout the train, "Dammit, Jacob, why can't you just let me do things on my own!'  
You barely had gotten in a breath after your last bout before a force pushed against your lips and your eyes widened beyond biologically possible. So there you were, stunned into silence and paralyzed as Jacob kissed you. Your incapacitation, however, was short lived while your mind went into overuse to signal your hands to move and push the man away from you.  
He staggered back, seemingly unaware of his previous actions or of puzzlement as to why you had shoved him. Either way, the sense of bewilderment lasted mere seconds before he suddenly shouted, startling any feelings of resentment away from you, and threw a poor bottle that had been left on the table against the wall behind him.  
The bottle shattered, much like any residual anger that had been left inside you, with the sharp pieces flying every which way. All you could focus on was the pile of shards that had fallen to the floor below the impact, suddenly realizing that your arguments and your want to continue were among them. Your eyes slowly roved over to his heaving backside, watching his hands rub his face before smoothing over his hair in one fluid motion.  
You wanted to say something, anything, but the man in question had beat you to it, "I would kill myself before I let another man hurt you like that."  
The silence that ensued was deafening. The statement hung in the air, stuck thick in the tension between the pair of you. He hadn't said so directly, but you knew. You could feel the three words lingering within the confession.  
Suddenly, you understood. Anything negative that had been left inside you dissipated and a new kind determination--possibly desperation--wrapped itself around you deep in your bones.  
"Jacob," You said, swallowing a small ball of useless fear before speaking louder and more firmly, "Jacob."  
Still, he refused to turn around, lost in thought and probably regret his choice of words and sudden declaration. You slowly walked toward him, steps resolute and hand outstretched to grasp his shoulder. His coat was cold against your warm skin as you turned him back around. And even then, when he was finally facing you once again, still he refused to look you in the eyes. His own cast downwards in something you couldn't define.  
But it didn't matter to you. A delicate touch to his cheek, your thumb rubbing over the stubble above his lip, and another to his chin to lift it up had the hazel searching your own for answers. Your left hand, which had had his chin pinched between your thumb and forefinger, grazed upwards; ghosting over his skin and skimming over the scar on his eyebrow before settling itself to run its fingers through his hair once and stopping at the base of his neck.  
Still searching for answers, his own hand came up to wrap around your wrist, leaning slightly into your palm on his cheek as if he needed reassurance that this wasn't just his imagination. The other shakily reached up of its own accord to brush a piece of hair that had fallen from your bun (from when you couldn't even begin to guess) behind your ear.  
The callouses, physical reminders of his labor and training, tickled across your cheek bone. You could see, in the way his eyes darted here and there across your face and the way his actions were so wary, that he was still unsure of what was happening. He didn't know if this was okay, but, then again, neither did you. You'd both just finished the biggest argument you'd ever had, you both need space to cool off.  
However, reason went out the window as you quenched his thirst for approval.  
"Kiss me again."  
Warmth enveloped your face as two, large hands gripped the sides of your head and roughly pulled you forwards. Slamming into one another with bruising force, it seemed as if both your lips were fighting just as you had been earlier. Briefly, your mind wondered if he tasted how he smelled--smoke, leather, and metal--but that thought had left as quick as it came as your back suddenly hit the wall with enough power to rattle the surrounding furniture.  
Forgetting about delicacy, you threaded his hair through your fingers (remembering Jacob had some strange obsession with always touching it) before gripping the strands tightly as you felt his tongue dip in to caress yours. You'd never known a feeling of this caliber before, a feeling as strong as the need to have Jacob; to touch, to kiss, to hold as close as humanly possible. And it seemed as if the more you took, the more you wanted. You couldn't possibly have enough of him.  
Your hands released their hold only to grab hold of the lapels of his jacket, pulling it off his shoulders and lightly pushing to indicate your wanting it off. Jacob responded in kind, letting go of wherever they had situated themselves, to slide the leather down his arms and drop to the floor forgotten.  
He reached behind, latching onto your dress, camisole, and corset before yanking it all apart. Not that you cared (the dress was an infernal contraption, anyway) as you were busy with popping the buttons of his vest, knowing there would be serious hell to pay if you destroyed his good clothes.  
Pulling the corset out and throwing God-knows-where, he tugged the rest down to free your breasts from their suffocation. His mouth trailed down to your neck as he pinched and squeezed a pert nipple between his fingers. You could feel his tongue tasting your skin, his teeth scraping along, his beard scratching your jaw; the sensations pulled you under and ignited the fire at your core.  
A moan ripped itself from your throat as your head fell back against the wall in pleasure, eyelids sliding shut and brows furrowed. Realizing he probably had a billion white shirts, you hardly registered your hands tearing open the front as they reached in to rub along his chest before wrapping around his back as if you could pull him any closer. A growl came from him, whether from anger at destroying his shirt or from his own sensations you didn't know, but what you were able to distinguish was his mouth expertly trailing down.  
His tongue slicked down the expanse of your neck, stopping to suck a bruise into your collarbone, and down into the valley between your breasts, leaving a path of cool wetness in its wake. His hands, which had previously been preoccupied with fondling your chest, had made their way to the many layers of your Godforsaken dress, pushing it up as he tenderly caressed your bare thighs (you had stubbornly refused to wear the stockings).  
It seemed Jacob was intent on making this apology a good one.  
You were already soaked; you could feel the need--the want--pooling deep within your stomach as his fingers gripped your thighs tightly and his mouth latched onto the other neglected nipple. A gasp escaped from you when his teeth grazed the bud, painfully pulling slightly before releasing.  
You retracted your hands, teasingly trailing down his abs as they flexed under your touch before moving to his belt buckle.  
Swallowing as his fingers reached high and higher, you struggled to find your voice amidst the heat and lust surrounding you both, "F-forget the...foreplay," another moan derailing your train of thoughts, "I...need you...now."  
Your fingers managed to unbuckle the belt, now fumbling to undo his button (and holy hell, why were there so many damn buttons?) before hurriedly pulling down his pants in your frenzied state of mind. You couldn't see, but you could feel the heat radiating off his hardened length. And it only added fuel to the flame.  
It seemed it was enough incentive to get him going, his heading lifting up from his position to look into your eyes. It was then, right then, that you could the effect you'd had on him. Pupils dilated so much his entire iris was almost black and the lust and love swirling and battling together within them stole the very breath from your lungs and stopped your heart. It was a feral look; of want, of need, of complete and utter desire and pure, raw emotion.  
You faintly heard the unsheathing of his hidden blade over the pounding in your ears as your heart regained its purpose only to begin beating faster and harder with each passing second you weren't being ravished by him. Suddenly, the coolness of the frigid air nipped at your privates, causing you to shiver from two different kinds of sensations.  
Rough hands gripped the backs of your thighs painfully, lifting you up effortlessly and slamming you down on his stiff member. A strangled mix of a gasp and moan flew from your lips, as well as a curse from the unexpected and sudden intrusion. Jacob's own desirous moans were thrown straight into your ear as his chin rested on your shoulder, forehead against the wall. Your arms wound themselves around his neck for support, hands curled into his shirt as your bare chests rested against one another.  
Pleasure and pain erupted forth, twisting and turning in your clenched stomach as he pulled all the way out, agonizingly slow, before pounding back into you with a kind of force that you were sure would have knocked you off your feet had Jacob not been holding you up. However, it seemed that was the last of the teasing as he continued to thrust into relentlessly.  
Your mind was clouded in a haze of wanton, legs barely holding themselves around the man's waist, as your eyes shut involuntarily. Breathless moans filled the air among the rattling of the train, the both of you consumed by the pure, animalistic hunger for the other. This was your confession--an explosion of raw passion and the truest physical form of your emotions that you could create. This was what you had always wanted, and if it was only a dream then you were going damn well enjoy every last bit of it.  
Your back slid up and down against the wall, his thrusts losing any sense of rhythm as they came harder and faster and causing you to tighten your secure hold on him. The heat in your core burned brighter with each stroke of your walls, begging and demanding for release. Toes curling and fists clenching, the heat burned unbearably before, suddenly, pain turned to pleasure and white took over your vision.  
Your entire body convulsed, heart beating rapidly and lungs fighting for air, as you clenched around his length and covering it in your juices. Jacob, still ramming into your overstimulated heat, felt the squeezing of his throbbing member as it drove him to his own sweet release. He stopped, buried to the hilt within you as he coated your walls with his seed, twitching with each spurt and kissing you roughly to stifle the moan that emanated from his lips.  
He stood there, letting go of your lips only to drop his head on your naked shoulder and still inside you, as your chests, slick with sweat, heaved together in unison. Gently, you lifted a hand to the back of his head, gingerly massaging his scalp as you knew he liked. Your own head fell back with a small thud, eyes shutting as you began to process the events that had just taken place. What did this mean for the two of you?  
"I hope that was enough of an apology and confession for you," Came his muffled response to your unspoken question.  
His head lifted, eyes finding yours, and you could see his devotion clear as day to you. It made your heart swell and a bright smile to grace your lips. Bringing his head down slightly, you placed a small peck on his forehead and whispered against it, "Definitely."


End file.
